Eight

Parker’s Ridge

November 19

Nick followed Charity back to her house, staring at the back of her car as if he could will her to stop, get out, and let him get behind the goddamned wheel.

He hated this. Why couldn’t she have just left the car where it was? He’d dropped hints aplenty, had even contemplated an order, but though she stated her wishes in the softest voice possible, Charity was like a rock. She just lifted that pointed little chin of hers and that was that. She wanted her car and she was going with him or without him to get it. In this weather, without him wasn’t an option, so with gritted teeth he’d driven her to her car near the library and was following her home.

That the weather had worsened—the roads were slick with ice and sleet—was a condition that Charity had totally ignored. Nick had to clutch the steering wheel hard to keep from shooting out in front of Charity and forcing her to slow down.

Unexpectedly, his classy little librarian liked speed. That was fine, but not on a day like this and not when he suspected she couldn’t quite handle her car. It slid when she braked and took corners. His jaws clenched each time.

He longingly eyed the cell phone on the passenger seat. He could call her and tell her to slow down. Make it seem like he couldn’t keep up, which was ridiculous for anyone who knew him. There wasn’t a vehicle in the world he couldn’t drive, as fast as he wanted, in any kind of weather. He was a qualified combat driver instructor and was one of the best.

His cell phone buzzed. Not Charity. Nick smiled when he saw the display. Jacob Weiss, his best friend. He switched his cell phone to speakerphone mode.

“Hey, Jake. Howzit hangin’?” It was their usual greeting and was usually answered in unprintable ways.

“Hey big guy, guess what? I did it!” Jake was too excited to engage in their usual banter. Nick could hear it in his voice. “Yee-hah! Or hoo-ah! Or whatever it is you military types say. I did it!”

Nick rolled his eyes. At any given moment, Jake was accomplishing a bazillion different things, not least accumulating more money than a third world country. “It” could have been buying Microsoft, doubling the income of a Saudi prince or single-handedly raising the world price of gold. Jake was one of the prime financial geniuses of the world. That wasn’t Nick’s opinion, it was Bloomberg’s.

Whatever “it” was, though, it had Jake in a state.

“Great. Glad to hear it.” Jake couldn’t see Nick’s shrug but he could probably hear it in his voice. Nick just wasn’t that into money, to Jake’s everlasting sorrow. “What did you do? Buy Corsica?”

“No, though I did purchase a resort…never mind. Listen, you remember those Russian bonds I told you about?” Jake waited while Nick processed. Should he lie and say of course he remembered? Jake was smart as a whip. He knew when Nick was lying. No, wait…Nick remembered something. Vaguely.

Jake didn’t let the thought gel. “If you had a decent cell phone instead of that crap POS you use, you’d see me rolling my eyes. I talked to you about investing in Russian bonds six months ago. I talked to you for two hours, Nick. Your head’s hard but it can’t be that hard.”

Oh yeah. Nick had taken an afternoon off from being a scumbag gopher for the Gonzalez clan and had gone to see Jake and his family. Being with Jake and Marja was like breathing in cool, clean air, except when Jake talked money, which is when Nick zoned out.

“I sort of remember. You thought it would be a good deal, right?”

“It turned out to be an excellent deal, thank you. Paid off four to one. I wasn’t expecting that until next spring, but by God, I’m looking at the e-mail right now.”

Nick, instead, was watching Charity’s back fender. Was that a wobble? Goddamn it, if she was having trouble holding the road, he was going to signal her to stop and have her come back to his car. They could leave hers there and he’d pick it up as soon as the weather cleared. He watched carefully as she rounded a corner, finally letting out a pent-up breath. Okay. She’d taken that one smoothly. But damn, her tires weren’t suited to this weather. He’d taken a good look before she got into her car and had to bite his lips not to say anything.

“What? What was that?” Jake had said something, something he was excited about. Nick gave him half his attention, the other half focused like a laser beam on Charity in front of him.

Bonds were infinitely less important to him than making sure Charity didn’t crash.

“If you’d been listening,” Jake said, in an exaggeratedly patient tone, “you’d have heard me the first time. But I’ll repeat. Do you remember when I told you I’d make you a millionaire? And you gave me all your money?”

Nick smiled. Good old Jake. “Yeah.”

Him, a millionaire? He could sooner sprout wings and fly. He never worried about money management. He spent very little and the rest just sat in a bank, gathering dust.

In exasperation, Jake made him take everything out and give it to him. It wasn’t peanuts, not for Nick, anyway. Nick had banked his entire salary while in Afghanistan, where he whooped it up on stale water and field MREs, there being absolutely no place to spend it. And again, his salary had accumulated while he was with the Gonzalez clan, and he’d handed that over to Jake, too.

Yeah, Nick remembered. A hundred fifty thou. More or less everything he had in the world and probably what Jake made in a minute. “You lose that for me?”

“No, I just told you! Weren’t you listening? I put your money in Russian bonds and Hong Kong gold futures. The Russian bonds just quadrupled and Hong Kong gold went through the roof. You were highly leveraged there for a while, I’m not afraid to say….” Nick frowned. Charity was driving way too fast again. He zoned back in to what Jake was saying. “…and I got you in and out of an Indian IPO fast, you came out smelling like a rose. In fact, as of right now…” Nick could hear a computer keyboard clacking, “your net worth is $1,003,000. Congratulations, Nick. You are now a millionaire. I just more than quintupled your investment, my man. Jesus, I’m good. I’m a god. Wait a second, while I do a little victory dance.”

Nick heard tapping sounds and smiled. Jake had undergone the last of eleven operations over the past ten years to straighten out his spine and being able to walk without pain and move quickly were both huge victories.

Wait a minute.

“Whoa.” Nick finally focused on what Jake was saying. “Hit rewind, would you? What was that again? I thought I heard you say that—”

“That you’re a millionaire. Rich, big guy, you’re rich. Absolutely. Welcome to the club.” Jake laughed. Actually, Jake was a billionaire, many times over, but Nick appreciated the thought. The Millionaires’ Club.

“Jesus.” Nick took a deep breath, then another. “Jesus, I’m rich.” His mind whirled. “I’m rich.” He gave a breathless laugh.

“Yep. Don’t spend it all in one place. Tell me I’m good.”

“You’re a genius,” Nick said, meaning every word.

“Damn straight.” Jake laughed again.

Nick swallowed. He flashed on the first time he’d seen Jake.

He’d been eleven and looked sixteen and Jake had been nine and looked five. Jake had suddenly appeared in the orphanage, a shell-shocked, whey-faced odd-looking little boy with a crooked back and toothpick legs. His family had emigrated from Israel the year before and his parents had just died in a freak accident. There were no other family members the state knew of, and they couldn’t immediately find a family willing to take on a cripple, so he’d been dumped in the orphanage, where he was immediate prey.

He barely spoke English, was badly underdeveloped, and scoliosis had turned his back into a huge crooked S. The death of his parents had traumatized him so much he couldn’t talk.